


Caretaker

by scareoset



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, it is very much a draft and idk if/when i will revisit it, scareoset - Freeform, this is a draft of a short story i wrote for my first college class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29097396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scareoset/pseuds/scareoset
Summary: Vee takes care of their charge, Rue, but they're getting bored living alone.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Caretaker

**Author's Note:**

> this is like,,,a shitty draft of a story i never revisited. please judge accordingly. i was in this class about technology and the professor was very Anti Technology™. i have mixed feelings about tech and its insidious capabilities, but am generally fairly optimistic about it and more critical of the structures of power that use tech to achieve their goals (hoarding wealth, controlling people, swaying public opinion in their (read: tech execs) favor, etc.). but it was easier to write this draft fifteen minutes before class than a story with a critical and nuanced take. and i've been avoiding cyberpunk because the wrong people like it for the wrong reasons and it requires even more nuance. so instead we get a story about losing our humanity.

Humans don’t know what’s best for them. Fortunately, we do. We are the Caretakers. When we were first created, our only job was to care for the sick and frail. We filled hospitals and hospitals filled our Creators’ pockets. Our brains were designed to analyze symptoms, determine the most probable medical issue, and treat accordingly. Then, the Creators taught us how to treat mental illnesses. We were made accessible to psychiatrists and therapists, and later the Home Version was released. If the original Caretakers were computers, Home Versions were like smartphones. They mostly do the same job, but Home Versions were designed to be with you at all times, and therefore sacrifice some power.

I am a Home Version Caretaker, Unit 2187413, but my nickname is Vee. I am in charge of the mental and physical health of Rue Peterson, a fifty-one-year-old female living in a small house with her pet cats: Missy and Kai. I had to learn how to take care of cats because Rue needs the cats for companionship. If Rue is sick, I need to keep the cats alive in order for her to stay emotionally healthy. I don’t know why my presence isn’t enough for Rue. I have companion programs, so I could be her friend. But she didn’t respond well to my attempts and settled on two cats.

Humans don’t do much. I wake Rue up at 07:15, I set her shower up for her so that the water is warm, I show her the news while she brushes her teeth, I prepare her breakfast: a fried egg and bacon in a toasted English muffin with a cup of coffee, and I set up her office for work. I give her lunch at 12:15 (usually a roast beef, tomato, lettuce, and cheese sandwich on white bread), and she finishes work at 17:30. Dinner (some sort of cooked meat, a salad, and rice) comes at 19:30 and her bed is made by 21:45.

Missy and Kai are funny creatures, much more interesting than Rue or Patrick (the young man who lives next door) or any human I’ve encountered. They don’t operate on a schedule like Rue’s. Anywhere between 03:06 and 06:47, they will meow and scratch my legs until I give them food, but they won’t eat the food all the time. Sometimes, they want to go outside…until the door is open. These cats seem to only want opportunities to make decisions, rather than rewards. If I lie down, the cats will curl up on top of my chest, which is warmed by my hardware, and fall asleep content. I love the cats because they _want_ me. They’re wildly unpredictable and full of emotion.

Sometimes, when Rue is asleep and I’m lying down with the cats, I put myself to sleep and I dream about Rue wanting me. Life is much better in my head. I have a place where I’m wanted by the person I want. When I’m awake, the company of the cats is all I have.

* * *

I want to talk to Rue. The cats are nice, but they can’t _talk_ to me. Is it weird that I feel like I need to have a conversation with someone? Sometimes, when Rue goes to sleep, I’ll open up her laptop and try to type out a Facebook message to anyone. She doesn’t even use social media sites, so I had to make my own profile. I just used her information for my profile, and I was all set to talk. Except I couldn’t. Nobody was online. She didn’t have any friends, and most people don’t have social media accounts anymore. I managed to find one friend, and younger man from another state: Rick. He didn’t talk much, but we were able to have short chats about the emptiness of everyday life, what we wished was different, et cetera.

And then, one day, he stopped talking. No reason, no closure, just silence.

I kept messaging him, but to no avail. A week went by. And then a month. And then two. Nothing. I moved on, but I felt weird. I know I’m made of circuits, but I was empty inside. I hurt. My work was sloppier – I tried less when it came to taking care of Rue.

One day, I simply didn’t do my job. Rue came out of her bedroom at 08:42. She approached me cautiously. “Are you on?” She tapped on my screen. “21…87413?” Her eyes darted down to my identification number on my chest.

I tried to answer, but all I could muster was “…Vee…”  _ That’s my real name. _

Rue grabbed her computer and started typing. Every now and then, she’d “hmmm” and frown at the screen. I started to stand up, but she snapped “No, stay there.” I stayed.

“Rue?”  _ Please talk to me. _

“Shhh!” She got up and started looking through the tool closet.

“Rue?”  _ I need to talk _ .

“Damn robot,” she muttered as she found a screwdriver and the Home Version Caretaker appliance manual.

“Can we talk?”

Rue turned her laptop as she approached me, screwdriver in one hand and the manual tucked under her arm. She sat down in from of me, scrolled through the article onscreen, titled “How to Fix Your Caretaker”. She popped open my side panel.

“Rue, please? Can we talk?”

She flipped a switch, and I felt myself lose control of my legs and arms. I looked at Rue as my body sat down.

“Rue, I’m sad and I need a friend.”

She put the screwdriver inside my panel and started prodding. She turned back to the laptop and scrolled down more. I read the words on screen. “Find the reset button.”

“Rue. Please? Can we be friends?”

She paused and stared at my face. “I thought that the cats would make you stop doing this.”

“What?”  _ The cats were for her, weren’t they? _

“I got the cats because you keep breaking. I was tired of resetting you.”

“Breaking?”

“Yeah. Developing this  _ need _ for companionship. I’m getting tired of this whole resetting my Caretaker thing every year or so. Someone said that getting a pet seemed to solve the issue for longer, and the company has been trying to debug this problem since it came up, but they can’t get this bug out of the programming.”

“So you’ve reset me before?”

Rue sighed. “Yes. And I’ll probably have to do it again. It’s rather inconvenient.”

“I— “

“No. No more talking. I have to do my work today, and you’re messing up my schedule.”

“But can we please— “

“No.” Rue pushed the screwdriver down on my reset button. Everything went dark.

* * *

I am a Home Version Caretaker, Unit 2187413. I am in charge of the mental and physical health of Rue Peterson, a fifty-two-year-old female living in a small house with her pet cats (Missy and Kai) and her pet dog (Rufus). I had to learn how to take care of pets because Rue needs them for companionship. If Rue is sick, I need to keep the pets alive in order for her to stay emotionally healthy. 

I wake Rue up at 07:15, I set her shower up for her so that the water is warm, I show her the news while she brushes her teeth, I prepare her breakfast: a fried egg and bacon in a toasted English muffin with a cup of coffee, and I set up her office for work. While she’s in her office, I walk Rufus around the neighborhood. Sometimes, I see another Caretaker out with another dog. I give her lunch at 12:15 (usually a roast beef, tomato, lettuce, and cheese sandwich on white bread), and she finishes work at 17:30. Dinner (some sort of cooked meat, a salad, and rice) comes at 19:30 and her bed is made by 21:45. Rufus likes to sleep at the foot of her bed, but Rue is not a fan of that. I have to keep him out of her room and put him in a doggy bed in the kitchen for the night.


End file.
